One of my lecturers was poet Robert Wells who was on the editorial board of the English Faculty's 'Poetry Worksheet'. The Spring 1982 edition carried this poem of mine which Robert Wells had seen and recommended for publication.
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FIRST SNOW AND THE OWL
On snow's anaemia momentarily
Lights up the owl's alarm.
Pink freezes blue in the forgetfulness
Of moments while the owl
Calculates winter's coming.
Above, numb limbs of tree
Girdle him in stupor,
Sore, separate suddenly from his hooting.
Conspicuous as blood on snow
He breathes steadily beneath measured
He will not hoot again,
Or call to the vast, heedless settling
Delicacy. The nest is cold.
This he knows, eyeing the white shock
Of the hibernal onset, mistrustful,
Weighing a branch beneath his weight.
Below him, slow, the roots leak paths
In the void, rising, stern, determined
Like the grip of bruised fingers.
The owl flies low, buoyed up by fear
And the air's crisp parsimony,
To warn the sun.